Callow's Story
by second heaven
Summary: “Dear Lord, give me a few friends who will love me for what I am, and keep ever burning before my vagrant steps the kindly light of hope...And though I come not within sight of the castle of my dreams, teach me to be thankful for life..."


Tiernan rubbed his face, the sweat moistening his hand, as he looked around the plot of land. Letting out a quiet sigh, the eleven-year-old wiped his hand on his pants and heaved the hoe into the ground, loosening up the soil for the crops. He had started helping his family with the farm when he was six feeding the livestock in the early mornings before breakfast, but this was far more labor intensive for his youthful frame. He worked through it, however, because he knew his father could use every extra hand available. As the eldest son, it was his duty, not matter what the age, and Tiernan respected that greatly. His father appreciated it as well, whether he said it or not. The boy plunged the tool into the ground once more as he heard their dog barking. Shifting the hoe around, he released it from its prison within the dirt and leaned against it a little, looking over across the land.

"Tiernan…"

His eyes squinted until the figure of his sister came into closer view, a canteen in hand. A smile formed on his face. "Thank ye, Mary," he expressed to her as she handed the water to him, for which he was grateful.

"You're welcome." She took the pick from him and occupied herself with the loosened soil with it. "A letter came today."

Tiernan lifted the canteen to his lips, letting the refreshing liquid pass over them, hoping to revitalize himself. As she mentioned the letter, he lowered the water from his mouth and looked over at her. "A letter?" He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, watching his sister with a concerned look on his face.

Mary glanced downwards and heaved a sigh softly. "Mother's worried."

"Well, what did it say, Mary? What did it say?" He asked, growing more concerned every second that he was left in the dark about this mysterious letter.

She raised her eyes towards her brother—her younger brother who took it upon himself to care for the children, as the eldest son should do. She wondered briefly where this sense of responsibility came from, and how he could be so selfless at such a young age. "They're raising the rent…again."

"I thought we were already having problems paying the rent."

"We are. Father says that they're raising it more. It's those damn Brit—"

He interrupted her quickly. "Mary, don't use such harsh words. What if mother heard you?"

"Those are father's words. I was only telling you what he said. Don't be like that."

He gazed across the green terrain, letting out a sigh. "Fine, Mary. Let's not fight. We need to figure out what to do."

"We're doing everything we can just to get rent now. What else can we do? After feeding the animals, and selling the crops we do manage to grow, there's hardly anything left even for us. I'm helping mother make food to sell while you and father are handling the farm. Conner and Matthew can't do anything yet, much less Margaret. There's nothing for us to do."

Tiernan gazed at his sister momentarily, watching her as she wallowed in defeat. He thought back to their father, and what a strong, notable figure he was for the family. He was constantly being positive and optimistic, buoyant and encouraging, and told his family that Saint Isidore would protect them and their land, making the crops grow in plethora, and the animals would be in peak condition. Sean Molony was someone Tiernan hoped he grew up to resemble in all aspects of his life. He took care of his family, loved his children, loved his wife, and put everyone before himself. He wanted to start this resemblance as early as possible.

"Mary, don't worry. We'll figure something out. This is our home, and it always will be."

Mary nodded a little, relieved to hear the voice of reason, for that was what she needed—reassurance.

The Molony family sat around the worn, wooden table, exchanging glances with each other. They were all thinking the similar thing—how were they ever going to afford to pay the rent now with the increases. Tiernan looked from his father to his mother and received two different expressions. Sean had his chin rested on his thick, worn hands, in a state of thought, and Catherine Molony had a look of worry, wringing the life out of a handkerchief in her hands. He decided to go with his father's expression. There had to be a way of working this out. This was their farm…their life. It was their only source of income, and if they had to be expected to pay the landlords more and they could not, what would happen? Tiernan had no intentions of finding out.

"Tiernan and I could get other jobs," Mary suggested. "That might bring in more money. We could do what we need to do here in the early morning, and then go. That way the work here still gets done just the same."

"I don't want you two working more than you need to."

"But, father, it would help," she argued. "It would. I'm sure there are things Tiernan and I could do."

"Perhaps in the city," Tiernan spoke up.

Mary looked at her brother for a moment and a smiled formed on her pale face. "The city…yes. Oh, I have the most wonderful idea! Louise was telling me that her father recently traveled to America to find a job, and then he would send money for them to join him."

"Mary, child, I can't leave the farm for that long. You know that."

She nodded at her father's answer and stared down at her hands for a moment.

"What if Mary and I went to America?"

At this suggestion, Catherine spoke up to differ with their implication of her two eldest children going to a foreign, distant country unaccompanied. "No. No, I won't have it. Think of the dangers."

"They have a lot of jobs there, factories and everything. And, Mama, they make sure everyone has a job there. In America you have so many opportunities, I promise. You've heard about it, I know."

Catherine looked across the small table at her husband. "Talk some sense into them, Sean, please."

"Catherine…"

"Please do not tell me that you would permit your children to go half way around the world, to God only knows where, with strangers nonetheless. They could be harmed. America is a big country, and they could get hurt, or worse."

"It's an idea though, darling. Think of the possibilities they could have by arriving there. They probably pay much more here. Plus, they have the British raising rent prices nearly every year."

"We could send the money we make back here," Mary offered.

"No," Catherine told them, distraught over the idea. "There will be no traveling to America. I don't approve it."

"Catherine, please. It's the best idea that has come up. Mary is right, Louise's father seems to be doing well from what I've heard from his wife."

"The dangers, Sean, the dangers. Are you not afraid of what will happen to our children? My children will not be put into danger. Not while I'm still alive and breathing. We still have the farm."

"We have the farm until the damn British come and seize it because we could not pay the rent. I will not allow for them to take my land, Catherine."

"Our children…" she persisted.

Sean shook his head, not wanting to engage in a fight with his wife that particular night. "We should get some rest tonight. We will talk about it in the morning."

As Catherine rested in her bed, she fidgeted with the corner of the thin blankets. Biting her lip, she turned her head towards her husband. "Sean, my dear?"

A quiet muffled sound returned from next to her, and she assumed that he was awake and she could continue.

"Do you honestly think Mary and Tiernan would be okay in America? It's so far…"

Sean turned over to face his wife and propped himself up on his elbow. "Darling, they're smart kids. They practically take care of themselves during the day with the work on the farm. I know you're worried." He lifted his hand and softly caressed her cheek.

"I don't want anything to happen to them."

"Catherine," he started, kissing her softly before continuing, "it's America. There are so many chances there for them. It would be a good future."

"The distance though…"

"Think of the money they could send us." He enveloped his wife's hand in his own and kissed her knuckles. "They could write us so we're sure they're safe. Besides, they could save up enough and return here shortly."

"Really?"

"Of course," he reassured her.

Catherine nodded a little, thinking the decision over in her head. "So, you think we should allow them to go?"

"I do."

A sad smile appeared on her face, but she nodded nevertheless. "All right," she agreed. "May St. Joseph be with them." She crossed herself and kissed her husband before getting comfortable once more under the covers. A small smile came to her lips, for she knew the saints would be with her family through everything. Comforted by the feeling, she fell into a peaceful sleep, ready to tell her eldest children the decision in the morning.

It took a little over eight months for the Molony family to save up the seventy dollars Mary and Tiernan would need to travel to America. It took nearly everything they had in savings, but each knew it would be for the best. It had to be for the best.

Tiernan shifted the bag to his other shoulder and hugged his mother. "We'll be all right, Mama, you'll see. We'll find great things for us in America."

"You just be careful, Tiernan." She smiled and took the boy's face into her hands, smiling softly. Only twelve, but he had grown over the past few years, realizing that he needed to be a helping hand for his family. Catherine was proud of her mature son, and knew that if he made it to America safely, there was nothing that could stop him. He was caring and strong-willed, like his father. She wiped her eyes quickly. "Go, go…and don't forget to write." She leaned over and kissed her daughter's forehead. "Be safe."

"We will, mother. Don't worry." She smiled to reassure her before grabbing her brother's hand and hurrying onto the boat.

Sean slipped his arm around his wife's waist, comforting her in this time of letting go. He was proud of his children for stepping up and offering to go to a foreign land for the family. "They'll be just fine, Catherine."

"I know." She nodded and waved her hand as the boat departed from the dock. She bit her lip and brought the handkerchief she has grasping to her mouth. "I know…" But, perhaps that was what scared her.

Tiernan hurried down the narrow confinements of the hallway, dodging small children, jumping over the few people sitting, and pushing past his fellow immigrants as he made his way to the room he shared with them.

He pushed the door open and grinned as he scanned the room to find his sister. "Mary, come look."

"What is it Tiernan?" She placed her book down on the dirty blanket after folding the top edge over as to save her place. "What's all the rush?"

He left no time to answer her inquiries as he grabbed her hand and fought his way back through the hallway.

"Tiernan, tell me what's going on," she said, being pushed to the side by others as they ascended the stairs. She apologized quietly and kept a firm grasp to his hand. "Tiernan..."

"You'll see. Oh! Mary, it's quite beautiful. It's as if someone painted a picture for the entire world to see. You've not seen anything like it before, I am quite sure."

The two Irish siblings forced their way to the main deck, and squeezed their way towards a railing. They ignored the groans and angry hollers they received and leaned against the iron bars.

Tiernan pointed his hand out towards the ocean and the approaching land, to the statue that rose from the water. "Look, Mary. It's as if she comes straight from the sea, guiding us home. Isn't it wonderful?" He leaned against one of the ropes, admiring

"It's beautiful," she responded softly. A smile appeared on her lips as she squeezed her brother's hand lightly. "She gives me such hope. We'll make it here, I'm sure of it." She smiled brighter as she watched the vessel draw near to the land. "It's as if she's welcoming us to our dreams and our future." She absently rubbed the rosary beads that she kept in her pocket and said a silent prayer for herself and her brother.

"That's exactly what she's doing."

As the two siblings retrieved their small belongings and the little money they had brought over, Tiernan made sure everything was in order. "Mary, remember to make yourself look well. They won't let us out if they think we have a disease."

"And remember to tell them that you're a carpenter or something of the sort. You have to prove that you're able to earn your way. Look strong."

He walked over and rubbed his sister's pale cheeks, bringing the blood to the foreground. "And you're a housekeeper. If we lose each other, just get out of the crowd. We'll see each other somewhere, I'm sure. Also, make sure you give them the answers they want to here, even if it means lying. They could send us back if we don't."

Mary nodded and kissed her brother's forehead. "We're here for a reason. Nothing would force us to go back. We're in America now," she informed him.

The two followed the others off of the boat, into another building where immigrants were lined up, waiting for their chance to walk out into the free land.

A forceful hand grabbed Tiernan's arm. "Men this way, women that way. Inspections."

He looked over and nodded at his sister. "It's okay," he reassured her and motioned to her ever-pale cheeks, indicating for her to pinch and rub them so they would have a rosy glow.

As he stood in line for disease inspections, he took a look at the people around him. Unshaven, filthy men, most of who were coughing and talking with those around them surrounded him. He straightened his shirt and stood up straight in an attempt to seem more presentable. As he saw a few men being pulled out and taken elsewhere, the terror of being taken into a quarantined area rose within him. He controlled the slight tremble in his chin and ran his tongue over his teeth a few times, in an effort to clean them the best that he could. He stepped forward as the man instructed and let him turn his face roughly in different directions. The man forcibly pushed his head downward and shifted through his hair for what seemed as a lifetime. It was a humiliating and degrading experience, and the un-welcoming, inhospitable manner he was experiencing was enough for him to wish to return to Ireland. These men, these inspectors and overseers, were the first people in America for him to meet, and he only prayed that the rest did not treat him as if he were the scum of the earth as they did. He lifted his shirt up, as directed, opened his mouth wide, and gave him his hands for him to check.

"Where do you plan on going?"

"I plan on staying in New York," he answered as he tucked his shirt back into his pants.

"And what do you do? Can you read?"

He nodded in response. "Yes. I can do carpentry, or steel work. I have experience in many different things," he lied.

"Did you come with money?" the inspector asked.

"Yes sir, as much as I could. It will be enough to find work and lodgings, I'm sure."

The inspector nodded, ignoring the answers that were given, and pushed him aside. "Next! Step up."

With a quick glance back at the man, Tiernan searched the crowd for his sister. It was a useless cause, for there were girls and women everywhere around him, and she could easily get immersed and lost with them. He forced his way to the edge of the building and took a seat on a worn bench. Bringing his bag into his lap, as he did not trust these people, he waited.

Watching the families around him tore his heart. The children screaming and holding onto their mothers, scared of the new land and the foreign strangers around them, reminded him of his own brothers and sister. He thought about Connor, running around the farmland, trying to help with whatever he could. Matthew would be joining him, attempting to better his older brother at anything. Margaret was the youngest and, by far, Tiernan's favorite. He missed his sister dearly.

_"Stay with me until I fall asleep. Tell me that poem again, Tiernan," Margaret requested as she smiled brightly, climbing into her brother's lap. _

"The poem? Which would you like to hear?"

"The same as yesterday. That's my favorite."

Tiernan took a blanket and folded it tightly around her small frame. "Ah, of course." He smiled and shifted her a little to get comfortable in the bed. "Only once, and then to bed, okay?"

Margaret nodded quickly and laid her head on his chest.

After seeing that she was comfortable, he quietly repeated the short poem to her.

"_Near a misty stream in Ireland in the hollow of a tree  
Live mystical, magical leprechauns who are clever as can be.  
With pointed ears, turned up toes and little coats of green,  
The leprechauns make their shoes, trying hard to ne'er be seen.  
Only those who really believe have seen these little elves.  
If you believe and look with your heart, you can see them yourselves." _

A small smile appeared as he thought about his youngest sister. He pressed his lips together, taking another look around the building. He was one of them, trying to find his way, trying to make it elsewhere. They all wanted a chance to have everything, and the guarantee of making money.

Tiernan frowned at his thoughts adverted to the subject of the guarantee of money. It had been the primary reason for Mary and him traveling to America, the 'land of opportunity.' There was no guarantee, and they might have wasted the money for the trip overseas. The thought sickened him, and he quickly pushed it to the back of his mind. They would make money, and they would make it here. He would not give up. Not yet.

"No!"

Tiernan looked over when he heard the scream and watched a woman fall to her knees in front of an officer who was holding a small child in his arms.

"Oh! Saint Joseph, protect us," the women cried. Onlookers could feel the woman's heart breaking at the thought of having her child taken from her. Officers stood on each side of her to keep others from interfering, and the woman was left helpless on the ground.

"The child must be quarantined. He is ill."

"I will make him healthy. Give him to me," she pleaded and held her arms out.

Tiernan turned his head and swallowed. The fear and anxiety prevented him from moving. He prayed his sister had not been thought ill and taken elsewhere. He brought his hands to his face, partly to shield his eyes from seeing anything around him.

An hour of worrying and panicking went by before his sister finally met up with him, and when she walked up to him, she pulled him in for a vigorous embrace.

He rubbed her back lightly and kissed the top of her head. "It's all right, Mary. Are you okay?"

She nodded and touched his cheeks lightly. "We'll make it here?"

He smiled to reassure her and tapped the end of her nose. "Of course we will. Molonys made it Ireland and they'll make it in America." He took her bag for her and led her towards another section of the building.

"What do we have to do, Tiernan?"

He smiled optimistically, not wanting her to be troubled. "No worries, Mary. We only have to exchange our money for American money. Then we can find some lodgings and I can search for work." He grabbed her slender hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze as he led her out.

Tiernan and Mary looked up at the worn building, the shutters hanging onto dear life by a rusty nail. The odor that escaped through the door and windows was atrocious, and it brought a queasy feeling to Tiernan's stomach.

"It's our only chance…" Mary whispered.

Taking a few glances down the street in hopes of seeing a better place, he adjusted the bags he was holding. "I suppose. Maybe we should keep looking."

"Tiernan, this is the fifth place we've looked today. We won't find anywhere better."

He let out a sigh and nodded. He opened the door for her and followed her inside, which was just as bad as the outside, if not, worse. The rug in the center of the room was tattered and stained with dirt, and Tiernan could have sworn he saw a few spots of blood. The walls were grimy and discolored with various stains, and one could feel diseases seeping into the body through each inhalation taken of the musty air. There were a few people sitting in a circle in the corner, and the smoke from their cigarettes swarmed the room. Crying children could be heard from upstairs, and the yelling parents attempted to outdo them. He stole a glance from Mary.

A crotchety old man appeared from a back room and cleared his throat. "What can I do for you?" he asked them hoarsely.

Tiernan stepped forward to the desk. "My sister and I need a room. We were wondering if—"

The man interrupted him, nodding his head and waving his hand. "Yes, yes. Follow me. I will show you."

He walked out from behind the desk, and the two siblings followed him upstairs after he stopped at a closet to get two thick blankets and two thin sheets. He led them past a few rooms, all of which were a disgrace to space. The man stopped outside of a door and pushed the filthy blankets into Mary's free hands. "This is it," he told them and walked downstairs.

Tiernan watched him go and opened the door, ushering his sister in. He stopped when he saw small groups of people, mostly families it seemed, gathered around the small room. He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat, and adverted his eyes away from the inquiring stares of the inhabitants. He led his sister, who followed closely beside him, to a tight corner and set the bags down.

"We'll just stay here. It's only until we can afford better," he informed her quietly.

"We share it with them?"

Tiernan nodded. "I suppose so. It'll be okay…"

"We don't know them," she said quietly as he laid the blankets down on the floor.

Tiernan took a moment and looked at the other four families, most of whom were speaking Italian or German languages. They were talking with each other and looking hatefully and distrustfully in their general direction. "I'll stay awake tonight…"

That night, as he watched his sister sleep, her chest raising and falling slowly, he took his rosary from his pocket and held it firmly against his chest. He closed his eyes and whispered an Irish prayer.

"_Dear Lord,  
Give me a few friends  
who will love me for what I am,  
and keep ever burning  
before my vagrant steps  
the kindly light of hope...  
And though I come not within sight  
of the castle of my dreams,  
teach me to be thankful for life,  
and for time's olden memories  
that are good and sweet.  
And may the evening's twilight  
find me gentle still."_

He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes once more to keep back the small tears that were forming.

"How much do we have?" Mary asked, leaning over his shoulder.

He moved away so she could not hover over him. "Give me a minute, Mary. I'm trying to figure it out." He placed his forehead in his hand and scribbled some more numbers on the edge of the newspaper. "With you making two eighty, and me making three sixty, that means we'll have…" he paused for a moment to check if his calculations were correct before continuing, "six dollars and forty cents a week. Take away two dollars and ten cents for lodging for both of us, and we're left with four and thirty."

She watched him for a moment before picking up the shirts next to her, which she was sewing in order to get ahead in her work at the factory. "And food…?"

Tiernan looked at the paper. "I don't have to eat everyday. You'll have to manage with only a little bit a day."

"Ma wouldn't like to hear that we're sending money to them instead of eating."

"They need the money more than we do. The nuns set up food for breakfast, and that's charity. Sometimes they do dinner as well at the church."

"Those people who stand in the line at the church look as though they would murder us at any moment. I've seen them."

"Mary, don't judge others. Love thy neighbor, remember?"

"Love them until they rob us blind and kill us? Then what?"

"Then we pray that the Lord will forgive them for their sins."

The two siblings exchanged glances, one of disbelief, the other of hope, caring, and understanding.

Shaking her head, she folded the shirts into a pile and set them in the corner. "Tiernan…"

"Come on," he interrupted. "We need to get our bread and head to the factory." He gently took her hand and led her out of the tenement building.

When they returned home that evening after stopping by the church for a small meal, they went right to the room they shared with the other families, as always, avoiding the others in the overcrowded building. They blocked out the horrid smells and heart-wrenching sounds that came from the other side of some of the doors. It was not the picture of America that either them had expected, but their faith remained with them and they kept up their hope that this was only a test. Beyond this, waiting for them, there were only times of happiness and contentment, joy and pleasure, bliss and delight. There was no time to give up on their dreams.

As Mary placed her money in a thin, woolen pouch, she noticed the shirts that she had been working on were gone. She bit her lip and frowned as she reached for her brother's arm.

"What is it?" Tiernan looked over, rolling up his shirtsleeves.

"The shirts are gone. The ones I was working on this morning.

At that moment, as if on cue, a short, plump German woman walked over to them, who they had learned was Mrs. Lustig, the mother of two small children, Adelina and Dedrick. She seized Mary's hand lightly and kissed it tenderly. She raised it to cheek. "Bless you, my child."

After exchanging nervous glances with her brother, Mary questioned why she was being blessed by this woman.

"Shirts," she said, motioning to the place the shirts had been prior to their leaving that morning. "I sell them, and I get money. Bless you."

Seeing that his sister would not say anything, Tiernan stepped in to do so. "Mrs. Lustig, those shirts were Mary's. She was sewing them for our job at the factory."

"Yes, yes. I sell them."

"But, they weren't yours to sell. They were Mary's."

"I thank you. I sell them to feed my little ones," she told them with a bright smile, showing off her worn-down, stained teeth. The two siblings followed her gaze to the small, rail-thin children in the corner, their cheeks sunken inward from their pale complexion. Two hearts were ripping at that moment, and a smile formed on their generous faces.

"It was my pleasure, Mrs. Lustig. You're welcome," Mary replied quietly and watched the German woman walk back to her section of the room.

Tiernan placed a hand around his sister's shoulder. "They need it more than we do."

"I know, and it breaks my heart to see them. It only reminds me of the ones we're trying to help feed back home." She reached her hand up and lightly brushed away the tears that were threatening to fall.

Tiernan sat in the alley that was located outside of the pub a few blocks from their living quarters, listening to the music that seeped from the doors. He enjoyed hearing the fiddle and flute or the Celtic music entertaining the drunkards. Though it kept the place rather busy and allowed the customers to stay longer, Tiernan found it rather soothing as long as he was not in the main room. Sitting outside and listening to it was rather nice.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the stone wall of the building, letting the music take over his body, bringing him back to the green countryside of Ireland, surrounded by his family.

_"Again, Papa, again!" Margaret begged her father as she danced around anxiously in the living room of the small house." _

"Again?" He grinned and raised the fiddle to his shoulder and began playing the upbeat tune once more, watching as his children forgot their worries.

"Dance with me, Tiernan, please?"

The eldest boy looked down at his sister, looking into her hazel eyes, which sadly returned the gaze. He saw the edge of her mouth start to form a small pout and he grinned. "Ah…Margaret, of course I will."

The smile that brightened her small, pale face was enough to serve as the beacon of a lighthouse, guiding the ships into the harbor. The light guided Tiernan over to where his sister was climbing into a chair to be at the right height. He gently took her hands as she danced on the small surface, watching her feet move to the fast paced tempo of the fiddle. He swung his sister's hands from side to side, hearing her laugh echo around the room, adding to the joyous music that filled the space.

Tiernan jumped as he heard laughing exiting the side door of the pub. He opened his eyes to see three older men stumbling away, holding on to one another as to not fall upon the streets of New York. He shook his head, choosing to ignore the drunkards. He gathered himself and returned "home," if one could call it that.

As he entered the tenement building, he found himself in the same room as the owner and another man in a suit. Upon hearing the arguing, Tiernan knew he had no business hearing their conversation, so he promptly went up the stairs to the small room he and his sister shared with the other families.

Stepping over clothes and a rag doll that belonged to one of the younger German children, he found Mary sitting against the wall with some shirts from the factory. He took a seat next to her and slipped his shoes off his feet.

"Where have you been?"

"I was out taking a walk. Why?"

"Did you hear the arguing? It's been going one for about an hour now."

"Don't worry about it, Mary. It's none of your business." Tiernan smiled at her. "Now, is it?"

She smirked slightly and shook her head, choosing to ignore her younger brother for the moment. "Mama sent us letters," she mentioned as she handed Tiernan the folded paper.

"Is everything all right back home?"

"Of course. She just wanted to write."

_My dear son,  
_

_How I miss you terribly. Your father and I think of you daily, as well as your brothers and sister. I do hope everything is okay in America. Please write to us more often. I want to know that you are doing well and that you are safe. No illness has detained you from working, has it? Are the doctors there smart and capable of taking care of you? I surely hope so. We pray for you and your sister constantly. Do they have good churches there that you are able to attend? I do hope you find time to go to church.  
_

_We are taking good care of the farm. The money you have sent us is helping us out, but please save some extra cash for yourself. Your father has bought a new horse, one that is stronger and younger than the others. It is helpful for the plowing, as you know. The crops have come in quite nicely so far this year, and we are anticipating a nice income from them if the grocer in town takes them.  
_

_Your brothers have started helping out around the house and some with the work in the barn. Connor helps clean the house in the morning, and then goes to help your father in the barn. He has grown up so much and he reminds me of you more every day. I thank God that I have been able to raise three wonderful boys to be just like their father. It is the greatest gift a mother can ask for. Margaret has been growing more curious as she gets older. She misses you and wishes you would come home soon. I tell her that you will be home as soon as possible.  
_

_I hope you are adjusting well to life in America, and the letters you and Mary send convey the idea that you are indeed having a nice time. All the love, my dear Tiernan. Please take care of your sister. May God protect you and forever hold your hand in his. _

Catherine Molony


End file.
